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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7596808" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p><strong>The Past Paths of Darkness - 04/24/2019</strong></p><p></p><p><strong><p style="text-align: center">The Past and Paths of Darkness</p><p></strong></p><p><em><p style="text-align: center">If Sigil is anything, it is about belief. In the universe. In yourself. In what you perceive. In order. In entropy. There is even a belief that that powers aren’t what they claim (barmy Athars.) But it is all about you in the end.</p></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em></p></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em>That isn’t the same thing as faith. Faith is belief in something or someone else. It requires no proof. It only demands your trust. </p></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em></p></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em>Finding what you believe in is easy. Finding faith in something, is a struggle that will last a lifetime.</p></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em></p><p></em></p><p>The brimstone stink hung heavy in the air in the Lower Ward. The dank muggy air, cling to clothes and skin alike here at the Gatehouse. For the folk in line for bread or healing, or a room for the evening it is something to endure as they wait. Perhaps they get what they seek, perhaps they sleep the night in the dirty gutters till the morning and start the wait again. Some might not last that long, and the collectors come for their shells.</p><p> </p><p>I had finished my tasks for the day, and I rested my bones outside the Gatehouse, alone. I’m always alone these days. Once I would have thought about sneaking off into the night and getting jinx by lighting people home. But now, even as the darkness begins to fall, I have no desire to move in the oppressive heat. No will to chase the jink that would let me leave this place. Nothing mattered. Perhaps there wasn’t a point to the multiverse. It is as it is, and no action would change it.</p><p>I sat there looking past the throngs of people. Their faces covered by hoods, robes, cloth strips across faces. All to hide the truth of loss. An eye. A pox. A scar. Pride. Or that there was nothing left to lose.</p><p></p><p>The fetid air made the alleyways and thoroughfares alike appeared choked with a yellow haze. I was simply staring into it, when a lone figure, slowly and deliberately made its way through it. With uneven steps, it unhurriedly walked past the mass of the poor that gathered here seeking out respite from the uncaring multi-universe.</p><p></p><p>As it approached the entrance way, I could see her…no it, clearly. The reddish skin mixing with dark purple botches on the arms. What was once fine copper hair, was now matted against the skull with clumps missing from the scalp. The hair did not hide the thick leather cord that kept the head attached to the once young body. No cloth hid the milky whites of blind eyes, no longer needed. No pox or scar blemished the dead skin of her cheeks. There was no sign of pride, and certainly not fear on the face of this wreck of bone and flesh that stumbled ever forward. </p><p></p><p>Elisna.</p><p></p><p>I shivered as I saw her…it. My name day adventure gone wrong, when the multi-verse took the one thing that mattered to me. My defender. My friend. My…sister. She moved towards the great gate slowly, and none blocked her path, or even gave her a second look. No one cared about her now as a corpse for the Dustmen. </p><p></p><p>She shambled slowly past me, her head turned and locked on a point within the gateway. It did not turn to face the other living poor. Or me. My heart’s wounds were still fresh from the day when she was slain in the streets near the Armory. And the cold reality of the multi-verse struck hard again. For, the first time in days I could feel again, as all the emotions boiled forth within me. </p><p></p><p>Sorrow. Horror. Guilt.</p><p></p><p>For the first time in weeks I felt the urge to move. To get away. To run. To hide. I clamored to my feet and ran. From her…it. From my sorrow. My guilt. My shame.</p><p></p><p>I didn’t really run far. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl as I moved through the dirty streets. Tears welling up in my eyes, blurring the hazy path in front of me. I blinked madly and wiped my dirty arm across my eyes. Soon, I was deep in the Hive, and darkness was starting to set in. Still crying, I turned and ran into a building with a random open doorway.</p><p></p><p>No…it wasn’t random. I saw a warm light, and like a moth to flame I sped towards it and crossed into the dilapidated tenement. Turning the corner, I sat on the ground, with my scrapped knees pressed against my eyes, and sobbed. I remembered screaming when Elisna died; I’m sure I cried. But this seemed to be the big one; the one where you are overwhelmed with the moment and meaning of the emotion. My heart was giving everything into the effort, holding nothing back, when I heard a sound.</p><p></p><p>My eyes were full of tears, and I could barely see. But I remember that dry papery voice; “My child. What leads you here in such sorrow?”</p><p></p><p>I turned my head to look at the voice, and I saw the yellowing skin of an old figure. His skin pulled taut against bones in his arms and hands, which while thin belied a wiry strength. Beneath a cowl, I saw that his eyes were a pale green, and I could barely see pointed ears and some semblance of hair on his head, pulled back tightly. His face had a thin moustache, and a thin beard neatly trimmed into a point. His facial features highlighted strong cheekbones as do many of the Githzerai race.</p><p></p><p>“My friend…she…she…died…and…and…” I stammered.</p><p></p><p>“You feel…responsible? Guilty? Ashamed? Uncertain?”</p><p></p><p>I felt these things, but the word ‘uncertain’ took me by surprise. I looked at the Githzerai puzzled, mouthing “Uncertain?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. Uncertain on what you should do. Can do. Must do. How to move on, in essence.”</p><p></p><p>“It…it hurts.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. I am certain it does. But have you considered there is a reason for that young one?”</p><p></p><p>“N—n—no. What good is…pain like this?” </p><p></p><p>“So, we remember of course.”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t want to remember! I want…want”</p><p></p><p>“You want the pain to end yes? Then you must remember in a…useful way.”</p><p></p><p>“Why remember at all?”</p><p></p><p>“We remember to never forget the one who passed beyond the veil. We remember to honor for what they stood for. What they taught us. What they meant to us. And that is why we should not forget.”</p><p></p><p>“But…but…wh—”</p><p></p><p>“Why? Because the lessons the dead give are important.”</p><p></p><p>“I..I..don’t..under—“ </p><p></p><p>“No. Not yet. Think about your friend. What would she want for you?”</p><p></p><p>I looked at him and turned away my eyes were searching aimlessly as I thought about Elisna. The times we spent together dreaming of a life far away from the Gatehouse. A life unfettered with debt, in control of our destiny. Doing things that were more important than meaningless chores. A life where we embraced the future.</p><p></p><p>A life without fear.</p><p></p><p>With that revelation, it put all the antics she had done into contrast. She pushed me to do outlandish things, not because she desired trouble for anyone. But that she saw that my fear held me back from being more. She always wanted the best for me, even if things didn’t turn out the way she anticipated. Even my name day.</p><p></p><p>Still sitting on the ground, my heart slowed and my tears began to dry. I then felt the hand of the Githzerai on my shoulder.</p><p></p><p>“I see you have found some peace. I hope that my small part helps.” He said with compassion and warmth.</p><p></p><p>I turned to look at the Githzerai in the eyes. His eyes were tired, but his face was serene and certain. Around his neck was a simple chain, which hung a bronze disk of a skeletal arm holding a set of balanced scales.</p><p></p><p>“Are you a cleric?”</p><p></p><p>He shook his head, “No. I am not blessed with the power of the divine. I am a lay priest who assists whomever I can with my lords’ tenets.”</p><p></p><p>“Who is your power, and what tenets?”</p><p></p><p>He smiled at me, “His name is Kelemvor, and he is a god of death. As for his tenets, they are relatively simple. Live long, help others to live, help others to deal with death, and help those with death who cannot help themselves.”</p><p></p><p>“The Bleakers say the multiverse doesn’t have a point or purpose, and the best we can do is help the berk next to you.”</p><p></p><p>“I admire their ethic, but if the multiverse isn’t about life and living, why do we need death then? It’s a waste of an otherwise wonderous creation.”</p><p></p><p>Kneeling there I thought more and asked, “Why does a power of death, care about anyone living at all?”</p><p></p><p>“We believe that everyone has a finite time, and that time should be used to experience, grow and pass on that knowledge. For a soul to be claimed by their god, they must have time to demonstrate their faith; and the longer the better.”</p><p></p><p>“Can…can…you teach me more?”</p><p></p><p>“Of course, all you need to do now, is…” and the hand on my shoulder gripped me tightly, and I watched the skin and tissue crumble into dust. Looking at his face, I saw the skin sloughed away and then I watched his eye sink back and disappear into his skull. The pools of darkness held my vision and the darkness burned my eyes, as I could not turn away. I squeezed my eyes shut to hide from the horrific visage in front of me..</p><p></p><p><em>Open your eyes Myrai!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>I sat up in the room, chest heaving. The room that Jarris had taken me to, was simple; a bed, a table and stool, and a small chest near the foot of the bed. I could see the green vial of ink, and the brown parchment paper on the table, along with a half-eaten red apple.</p><p></p><p>Sighing, I pulled myself up off the bed and stood, stretching. I was only dressed in a long tunic that I had found in the room. My dress was sent away with a simple letter back to the tailor. It said little, only thank you in Celestial and Common. The under garments were a wreck, and I felt lucky to have the tunic to cover myself.</p><p></p><p>I had started a second letter, this one to Beepu when the candle I had in the room ran out. At that point I decided to try to get some rest and slept. Now, I looked at the letter, and was thinking about what I had written, when I realized something was different.</p><p></p><p>On the table was the remains of a half-eaten apple. I looked at the apple and realized that It cast no shadow. It certainly did before in the flickering candle light, but now…nothing. I looked down at the floor, at my feet and I realized that I didn’t cast one either. In fact, nothing did. Not the stool, not the bed, not the table. There were no shadows, and no darkness. Everything looked like it was in peak on the brightest day.</p><p></p><p>I shook my head. This didn’t make any sense. Why were there no shadows? I turned to look at the letter and the writing on it, when I realized something else.</p><p></p><p>I could read the words. </p><p></p><p>My heart started to quicken its pace. I could always see in the dark, I suppose since birth. Nothing ever was truly dark. But before, when I looked around, everything was a shade of grey or black. But I couldn’t read in it; I needed to create or use some form of light. Otherwise the page of a book would be a uniform grey. But now in what should have been true darkness it was different. No shadows from light, yet all the colors that light revealed were visible. </p><p></p><p>“What the?” I pulled my hair forward, so I could see it, and I could clearly see the color of beaten gold. The inkwell, the apple, even my brown tunic; all had clear color. </p><p></p><p><Knock, knock></p><p></p><p>“M’lady, Myrai?” came the muffled, tentative voice of Jarris.</p><p></p><p>“Come in.” I replied, and the door swung open, flooding the room with shadows and light. A torch in a sconce opposite my room’s door, barely lit the room. But in doing so, the colors faded to grey. The words on the page were there, but much harder to read in the dim light. </p><p></p><p>I was absorbing this, as Jarris stepped into the room with a bundle, and on top of the bundle was a simple note.</p><p></p><p>“Any trouble getting this?” I asked taking the bundle and placing it on the bed. I was picking up the note as he replied.</p><p></p><p>“No. The old man was delighted to get your note and package. Luckily his apprentice had a cart and we got all other stuff.</p><p></p><p>“Stuff? What about Mo?”</p><p></p><p>“Mo? The monkey? He followed along making noises and throwing pebbles at us. Didn’t stop until we got in the compound and he saw the lean one. Made a bolt right towards him screeching. The lean one was happy though.”</p><p></p><p>I smiled, “I imagine so.” Taking the note, I saw it had written inside a single phrase:</p><p></p><p>‘Thanks for the memory.’</p><p></p><p>I then opened the package, and saw within my pack, boots, leathers, and my belt with three daggers within. Drawing one, I spun it in my fingers. It seemed like ages since I needed it or used it. But the weight of it in my hand was comforting. Not having a weapon on me during the party, made me feel vulnerable; almost naked. But with the dagger in my hand I felt confident again. It was something visible that I wasn’t some cony waiting to be bobbed and peeled. I was a cutter, and I would make you hurt if you assumed otherwise.</p><p></p><p>Jarris watched my display silently for some time before speaking again, “You might think about something bigger. That’s what the men at the pells always tell the recruits when they start with daggers.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, I guess they might have a point there. Let me get dressed and finish this note. Then you can take me to the armory to find a ‘proper’ weapon.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes M’lady,” and the boy left the room sheepishly.</p><p></p><p>But once the door closed, blocking the torch light, once again the room lit up with clarity and color. I could see the reds, blacks, and browns in my leathers, the dull shiny steel color of my daggers. Everything.</p><p></p><p>Something had changed within me. I didn’t understand how this could be. Why now? I did feel stronger overall, but I had also eaten and slept. I decided I would have to ask Beepu later about it…assuming he was speaking with anyone at all.</p><p></p><p>I put on my gear, hurriedly finished my letter, and left the room with Jarris. Jarris took me outside to the training yard. The pells and targets were unused, and the yard itself was empty, although two guards were on the wall patrolling. Jarris led me toward a different door on the main building and motioned me inside.</p><p></p><p>There were some oil lamps in the room, and along the walls arranged in neat orderly rows, were weapons. Spears, swords, hammers, polearms and others all leaned in their racks on one wall. On the opposite wall were stands of armor, and shields arranged on the floor leaning against the walls.</p><p>I walked over to a sword on the rack and picked it up. I held it a moment, feeling its weight. It was crafted well enough, but it felt too heavy; like I would exhaust myself trying to swing it. I returned the weapon to its place on the rack and moved down farther, until I came across a slim blade, with a fancy cross hilt. Unlike the other weapons, it was sheathed. I grasped the scabbard and drew the blade, which rewarded me with that fine metal on metal scrape as it came free. </p><p></p><p>I saw that while it had an edge, it was meant to be used as a thrusting weapon. I remembered that some cutters in Sigil preferred blades like this; they were fast, and a hard thrust could create a grievous wound. After cutting the air for a couple of moments, I nodded to myself. This would be a blade I could use effectively.</p><p></p><p>“A rapier? I’m not sure that’s what they meant by ‘bigger.’”</p><p></p><p>“Probably not.” And I shifted my dagger to my right hip and attached the rapiers’ frog on my left. “But I can use this better, than those other swords.”</p><p></p><p>I then moved down the line of armor, and found on a stand a simple chain vest, with some rents in the metal rings, and a bunch of extra leather thong. Staring at it a moment, I realized it was the chain shirt that Daneath had used during our escape from the mansion. I knew it didn’t fit well, but I didn’t realize how much extra thong it took to make it work for him. Looking it over, it appeared to be sized for either a slender man, or perhaps an elf.</p><p></p><p>I focused a moment on the chainmail shirt and pulled on the light within me. I poured the energy to fixing the rings, and slowly the rents began to close.</p><p></p><p>I could Jarris next to me, “You can do that? Arryn would make me do that with pincers.”</p><p></p><p>I shrugged, “I can fix some things. But here, help me put this on and size it a bit. I draped the shirt over my shoulder, and looked at the floor, when I saw a round buckler on the ground. </p><p></p><p>“Perfect. Just what I need.”</p><p></p><p>It took a bit to get the armor sized appropriately, but Jarris was a help. He clearly was working hard to be a squire, if for no other reason than to pass the valet work to someone else. Soon I exited the armory and entered the yard. There near the pells stood Arryn, Iesa, Daneath, and two other armored figures I didn’t recognize. I noticed that Mo was bounding around the roofline, and that Iesa kept an eye on his furry pal’s wandering as I approached.</p><p></p><p>Daneath was dressed in different armor than when I first met him and was nodding to something that Arryn was saying when I stepped up to the group with Jarris.</p><p></p><p>“Ah…Myrai. You look…different. Like you are expecting trouble,” Arryn noted with approval.</p><p></p><p>“Well, if you aren’t prepared for trouble, you are going to be surprised.” I replied.</p><p></p><p>“Indeed. Now Daneath, remember those strikes and moves. It will help you gain an edge over your opponent. I bet Iesa could do the same, if he focused on the technique more.” Arryn then turned and gestured to the two armored figures standing nearby. </p><p></p><p>“This is Berevan and Viceri. They are solid soldiers and have volunteered to help you.” At this point, both took their right fist, and thumped their own chest with enthusiasm. Arryn continued “I found out that the guards at the western gate are former blade members. They won’t stop anyone in Blades livery, nor will they report your leaving the city at all. Beyond that it is all up to you. I wish you luck and may the gods protect you.”</p><p></p><p>We all nodded our thanks and turned to the pair. Daneath spoke first, “Well, as I am sure Arryn told you we are taking a hidden path to our target. There are monesters in the caverns below, and then eventually some house guards once we reach the manor house. If we do this right, we won’t have all the guardsmen coming down on us.”</p><p></p><p>Berevan and Veceri nodded. Berevan then spoke, “This doesn’t seem to be the honorable way to do this.”</p><p></p><p>I stepped forward and paced in front of the two. “Perhaps not. But is it honorable to stuff a person who has done no wrong into a cage? Is it honorable, to summon a foul servant to help keep her penned?” </p><p></p><p>Both men shook their heads, their faces expressions grim. </p><p></p><p>I continued pacing in front of them, “These aren’t honorable foes. They have lied and deceived the whole of Yartar from noble to commoner. Why would they fight on fair terms? And so why should others die, if we can avoid a larger fight?”</p><p></p><p>“We are taking the fight to them, where they think they have the advantage. Our hope is to be swift and to do the unexpected. Can you handle that?”</p><p></p><p>The pair didn’t hesitate. They nodded and said in unison, “Yes m’lady,”</p><p></p><p>“Alright then. Jarris, drop off the note under Beepu’s door, and then I will need the…”</p><p></p><p>“Right away, I’ll be right back with it” and Jarris bounded off without me finishing my sentence.“Alright then. Let’s do this and get back before the next morning’s light,” Daneath said.</p><p></p><p>“Great, but what’s Jarris getting for you Myrai?” Iesa asked as he was feeding Mo a small piece of dried fruit.</p><p></p><p>I looked at Iesa, “Something to keep the spider busy.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session notes:</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p>Everyone leveled at this point, although the joke at the table was that Beepu would be behind because he missed the session. It meant some spells, hp, and stuff, but most of the upgrades were in gear items and less wealth.</p><p></p><p>1,718</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 7596808, member: 6971069"] [b]The Past Paths of Darkness - 04/24/2019[/b] [B][CENTER]The Past and Paths of Darkness[/CENTER][/B] [I][CENTER]If Sigil is anything, it is about belief. In the universe. In yourself. In what you perceive. In order. In entropy. There is even a belief that that powers aren’t what they claim (barmy Athars.) But it is all about you in the end. That isn’t the same thing as faith. Faith is belief in something or someone else. It requires no proof. It only demands your trust. Finding what you believe in is easy. Finding faith in something, is a struggle that will last a lifetime. [/CENTER][/I] The brimstone stink hung heavy in the air in the Lower Ward. The dank muggy air, cling to clothes and skin alike here at the Gatehouse. For the folk in line for bread or healing, or a room for the evening it is something to endure as they wait. Perhaps they get what they seek, perhaps they sleep the night in the dirty gutters till the morning and start the wait again. Some might not last that long, and the collectors come for their shells. I had finished my tasks for the day, and I rested my bones outside the Gatehouse, alone. I’m always alone these days. Once I would have thought about sneaking off into the night and getting jinx by lighting people home. But now, even as the darkness begins to fall, I have no desire to move in the oppressive heat. No will to chase the jink that would let me leave this place. Nothing mattered. Perhaps there wasn’t a point to the multiverse. It is as it is, and no action would change it. I sat there looking past the throngs of people. Their faces covered by hoods, robes, cloth strips across faces. All to hide the truth of loss. An eye. A pox. A scar. Pride. Or that there was nothing left to lose. The fetid air made the alleyways and thoroughfares alike appeared choked with a yellow haze. I was simply staring into it, when a lone figure, slowly and deliberately made its way through it. With uneven steps, it unhurriedly walked past the mass of the poor that gathered here seeking out respite from the uncaring multi-universe. As it approached the entrance way, I could see her…no it, clearly. The reddish skin mixing with dark purple botches on the arms. What was once fine copper hair, was now matted against the skull with clumps missing from the scalp. The hair did not hide the thick leather cord that kept the head attached to the once young body. No cloth hid the milky whites of blind eyes, no longer needed. No pox or scar blemished the dead skin of her cheeks. There was no sign of pride, and certainly not fear on the face of this wreck of bone and flesh that stumbled ever forward. Elisna. I shivered as I saw her…it. My name day adventure gone wrong, when the multi-verse took the one thing that mattered to me. My defender. My friend. My…sister. She moved towards the great gate slowly, and none blocked her path, or even gave her a second look. No one cared about her now as a corpse for the Dustmen. She shambled slowly past me, her head turned and locked on a point within the gateway. It did not turn to face the other living poor. Or me. My heart’s wounds were still fresh from the day when she was slain in the streets near the Armory. And the cold reality of the multi-verse struck hard again. For, the first time in days I could feel again, as all the emotions boiled forth within me. Sorrow. Horror. Guilt. For the first time in weeks I felt the urge to move. To get away. To run. To hide. I clamored to my feet and ran. From her…it. From my sorrow. My guilt. My shame. I didn’t really run far. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl as I moved through the dirty streets. Tears welling up in my eyes, blurring the hazy path in front of me. I blinked madly and wiped my dirty arm across my eyes. Soon, I was deep in the Hive, and darkness was starting to set in. Still crying, I turned and ran into a building with a random open doorway. No…it wasn’t random. I saw a warm light, and like a moth to flame I sped towards it and crossed into the dilapidated tenement. Turning the corner, I sat on the ground, with my scrapped knees pressed against my eyes, and sobbed. I remembered screaming when Elisna died; I’m sure I cried. But this seemed to be the big one; the one where you are overwhelmed with the moment and meaning of the emotion. My heart was giving everything into the effort, holding nothing back, when I heard a sound. My eyes were full of tears, and I could barely see. But I remember that dry papery voice; “My child. What leads you here in such sorrow?” I turned my head to look at the voice, and I saw the yellowing skin of an old figure. His skin pulled taut against bones in his arms and hands, which while thin belied a wiry strength. Beneath a cowl, I saw that his eyes were a pale green, and I could barely see pointed ears and some semblance of hair on his head, pulled back tightly. His face had a thin moustache, and a thin beard neatly trimmed into a point. His facial features highlighted strong cheekbones as do many of the Githzerai race. “My friend…she…she…died…and…and…” I stammered. “You feel…responsible? Guilty? Ashamed? Uncertain?” I felt these things, but the word ‘uncertain’ took me by surprise. I looked at the Githzerai puzzled, mouthing “Uncertain?” “Yes. Uncertain on what you should do. Can do. Must do. How to move on, in essence.” “It…it hurts.” “Yes. I am certain it does. But have you considered there is a reason for that young one?” “N—n—no. What good is…pain like this?” “So, we remember of course.” “I don’t want to remember! I want…want” “You want the pain to end yes? Then you must remember in a…useful way.” “Why remember at all?” “We remember to never forget the one who passed beyond the veil. We remember to honor for what they stood for. What they taught us. What they meant to us. And that is why we should not forget.” “But…but…wh—” “Why? Because the lessons the dead give are important.” “I..I..don’t..under—“ “No. Not yet. Think about your friend. What would she want for you?” I looked at him and turned away my eyes were searching aimlessly as I thought about Elisna. The times we spent together dreaming of a life far away from the Gatehouse. A life unfettered with debt, in control of our destiny. Doing things that were more important than meaningless chores. A life where we embraced the future. A life without fear. With that revelation, it put all the antics she had done into contrast. She pushed me to do outlandish things, not because she desired trouble for anyone. But that she saw that my fear held me back from being more. She always wanted the best for me, even if things didn’t turn out the way she anticipated. Even my name day. Still sitting on the ground, my heart slowed and my tears began to dry. I then felt the hand of the Githzerai on my shoulder. “I see you have found some peace. I hope that my small part helps.” He said with compassion and warmth. I turned to look at the Githzerai in the eyes. His eyes were tired, but his face was serene and certain. Around his neck was a simple chain, which hung a bronze disk of a skeletal arm holding a set of balanced scales. “Are you a cleric?” He shook his head, “No. I am not blessed with the power of the divine. I am a lay priest who assists whomever I can with my lords’ tenets.” “Who is your power, and what tenets?” He smiled at me, “His name is Kelemvor, and he is a god of death. As for his tenets, they are relatively simple. Live long, help others to live, help others to deal with death, and help those with death who cannot help themselves.” “The Bleakers say the multiverse doesn’t have a point or purpose, and the best we can do is help the berk next to you.” “I admire their ethic, but if the multiverse isn’t about life and living, why do we need death then? It’s a waste of an otherwise wonderous creation.” Kneeling there I thought more and asked, “Why does a power of death, care about anyone living at all?” “We believe that everyone has a finite time, and that time should be used to experience, grow and pass on that knowledge. For a soul to be claimed by their god, they must have time to demonstrate their faith; and the longer the better.” “Can…can…you teach me more?” “Of course, all you need to do now, is…” and the hand on my shoulder gripped me tightly, and I watched the skin and tissue crumble into dust. Looking at his face, I saw the skin sloughed away and then I watched his eye sink back and disappear into his skull. The pools of darkness held my vision and the darkness burned my eyes, as I could not turn away. I squeezed my eyes shut to hide from the horrific visage in front of me.. [I]Open your eyes Myrai! [/I] I sat up in the room, chest heaving. The room that Jarris had taken me to, was simple; a bed, a table and stool, and a small chest near the foot of the bed. I could see the green vial of ink, and the brown parchment paper on the table, along with a half-eaten red apple. Sighing, I pulled myself up off the bed and stood, stretching. I was only dressed in a long tunic that I had found in the room. My dress was sent away with a simple letter back to the tailor. It said little, only thank you in Celestial and Common. The under garments were a wreck, and I felt lucky to have the tunic to cover myself. I had started a second letter, this one to Beepu when the candle I had in the room ran out. At that point I decided to try to get some rest and slept. Now, I looked at the letter, and was thinking about what I had written, when I realized something was different. On the table was the remains of a half-eaten apple. I looked at the apple and realized that It cast no shadow. It certainly did before in the flickering candle light, but now…nothing. I looked down at the floor, at my feet and I realized that I didn’t cast one either. In fact, nothing did. Not the stool, not the bed, not the table. There were no shadows, and no darkness. Everything looked like it was in peak on the brightest day. I shook my head. This didn’t make any sense. Why were there no shadows? I turned to look at the letter and the writing on it, when I realized something else. I could read the words. My heart started to quicken its pace. I could always see in the dark, I suppose since birth. Nothing ever was truly dark. But before, when I looked around, everything was a shade of grey or black. But I couldn’t read in it; I needed to create or use some form of light. Otherwise the page of a book would be a uniform grey. But now in what should have been true darkness it was different. No shadows from light, yet all the colors that light revealed were visible. “What the?” I pulled my hair forward, so I could see it, and I could clearly see the color of beaten gold. The inkwell, the apple, even my brown tunic; all had clear color. <Knock, knock> “M’lady, Myrai?” came the muffled, tentative voice of Jarris. “Come in.” I replied, and the door swung open, flooding the room with shadows and light. A torch in a sconce opposite my room’s door, barely lit the room. But in doing so, the colors faded to grey. The words on the page were there, but much harder to read in the dim light. I was absorbing this, as Jarris stepped into the room with a bundle, and on top of the bundle was a simple note. “Any trouble getting this?” I asked taking the bundle and placing it on the bed. I was picking up the note as he replied. “No. The old man was delighted to get your note and package. Luckily his apprentice had a cart and we got all other stuff. “Stuff? What about Mo?” “Mo? The monkey? He followed along making noises and throwing pebbles at us. Didn’t stop until we got in the compound and he saw the lean one. Made a bolt right towards him screeching. The lean one was happy though.” I smiled, “I imagine so.” Taking the note, I saw it had written inside a single phrase: ‘Thanks for the memory.’ I then opened the package, and saw within my pack, boots, leathers, and my belt with three daggers within. Drawing one, I spun it in my fingers. It seemed like ages since I needed it or used it. But the weight of it in my hand was comforting. Not having a weapon on me during the party, made me feel vulnerable; almost naked. But with the dagger in my hand I felt confident again. It was something visible that I wasn’t some cony waiting to be bobbed and peeled. I was a cutter, and I would make you hurt if you assumed otherwise. Jarris watched my display silently for some time before speaking again, “You might think about something bigger. That’s what the men at the pells always tell the recruits when they start with daggers.” “Well, I guess they might have a point there. Let me get dressed and finish this note. Then you can take me to the armory to find a ‘proper’ weapon.” “Yes M’lady,” and the boy left the room sheepishly. But once the door closed, blocking the torch light, once again the room lit up with clarity and color. I could see the reds, blacks, and browns in my leathers, the dull shiny steel color of my daggers. Everything. Something had changed within me. I didn’t understand how this could be. Why now? I did feel stronger overall, but I had also eaten and slept. I decided I would have to ask Beepu later about it…assuming he was speaking with anyone at all. I put on my gear, hurriedly finished my letter, and left the room with Jarris. Jarris took me outside to the training yard. The pells and targets were unused, and the yard itself was empty, although two guards were on the wall patrolling. Jarris led me toward a different door on the main building and motioned me inside. There were some oil lamps in the room, and along the walls arranged in neat orderly rows, were weapons. Spears, swords, hammers, polearms and others all leaned in their racks on one wall. On the opposite wall were stands of armor, and shields arranged on the floor leaning against the walls. I walked over to a sword on the rack and picked it up. I held it a moment, feeling its weight. It was crafted well enough, but it felt too heavy; like I would exhaust myself trying to swing it. I returned the weapon to its place on the rack and moved down farther, until I came across a slim blade, with a fancy cross hilt. Unlike the other weapons, it was sheathed. I grasped the scabbard and drew the blade, which rewarded me with that fine metal on metal scrape as it came free. I saw that while it had an edge, it was meant to be used as a thrusting weapon. I remembered that some cutters in Sigil preferred blades like this; they were fast, and a hard thrust could create a grievous wound. After cutting the air for a couple of moments, I nodded to myself. This would be a blade I could use effectively. “A rapier? I’m not sure that’s what they meant by ‘bigger.’” “Probably not.” And I shifted my dagger to my right hip and attached the rapiers’ frog on my left. “But I can use this better, than those other swords.” I then moved down the line of armor, and found on a stand a simple chain vest, with some rents in the metal rings, and a bunch of extra leather thong. Staring at it a moment, I realized it was the chain shirt that Daneath had used during our escape from the mansion. I knew it didn’t fit well, but I didn’t realize how much extra thong it took to make it work for him. Looking it over, it appeared to be sized for either a slender man, or perhaps an elf. I focused a moment on the chainmail shirt and pulled on the light within me. I poured the energy to fixing the rings, and slowly the rents began to close. I could Jarris next to me, “You can do that? Arryn would make me do that with pincers.” I shrugged, “I can fix some things. But here, help me put this on and size it a bit. I draped the shirt over my shoulder, and looked at the floor, when I saw a round buckler on the ground. “Perfect. Just what I need.” It took a bit to get the armor sized appropriately, but Jarris was a help. He clearly was working hard to be a squire, if for no other reason than to pass the valet work to someone else. Soon I exited the armory and entered the yard. There near the pells stood Arryn, Iesa, Daneath, and two other armored figures I didn’t recognize. I noticed that Mo was bounding around the roofline, and that Iesa kept an eye on his furry pal’s wandering as I approached. Daneath was dressed in different armor than when I first met him and was nodding to something that Arryn was saying when I stepped up to the group with Jarris. “Ah…Myrai. You look…different. Like you are expecting trouble,” Arryn noted with approval. “Well, if you aren’t prepared for trouble, you are going to be surprised.” I replied. “Indeed. Now Daneath, remember those strikes and moves. It will help you gain an edge over your opponent. I bet Iesa could do the same, if he focused on the technique more.” Arryn then turned and gestured to the two armored figures standing nearby. “This is Berevan and Viceri. They are solid soldiers and have volunteered to help you.” At this point, both took their right fist, and thumped their own chest with enthusiasm. Arryn continued “I found out that the guards at the western gate are former blade members. They won’t stop anyone in Blades livery, nor will they report your leaving the city at all. Beyond that it is all up to you. I wish you luck and may the gods protect you.” We all nodded our thanks and turned to the pair. Daneath spoke first, “Well, as I am sure Arryn told you we are taking a hidden path to our target. There are monesters in the caverns below, and then eventually some house guards once we reach the manor house. If we do this right, we won’t have all the guardsmen coming down on us.” Berevan and Veceri nodded. Berevan then spoke, “This doesn’t seem to be the honorable way to do this.” I stepped forward and paced in front of the two. “Perhaps not. But is it honorable to stuff a person who has done no wrong into a cage? Is it honorable, to summon a foul servant to help keep her penned?” Both men shook their heads, their faces expressions grim. I continued pacing in front of them, “These aren’t honorable foes. They have lied and deceived the whole of Yartar from noble to commoner. Why would they fight on fair terms? And so why should others die, if we can avoid a larger fight?” “We are taking the fight to them, where they think they have the advantage. Our hope is to be swift and to do the unexpected. Can you handle that?” The pair didn’t hesitate. They nodded and said in unison, “Yes m’lady,” “Alright then. Jarris, drop off the note under Beepu’s door, and then I will need the…” “Right away, I’ll be right back with it” and Jarris bounded off without me finishing my sentence.“Alright then. Let’s do this and get back before the next morning’s light,” Daneath said. “Great, but what’s Jarris getting for you Myrai?” Iesa asked as he was feeding Mo a small piece of dried fruit. I looked at Iesa, “Something to keep the spider busy.” [B]Session notes: [/B] Everyone leveled at this point, although the joke at the table was that Beepu would be behind because he missed the session. It meant some spells, hp, and stuff, but most of the upgrades were in gear items and less wealth. 1,718 [/QUOTE]
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